


Adrenalin

by Twyd



Category: Durarara!!
Genre: Assault, Attempted Sexual Assault, Enemies to Lovers, First Kiss, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Injury, Jealousy, M/M, Slash, Teasing, Watching, Yaoi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-28
Updated: 2016-05-28
Packaged: 2018-07-10 19:16:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7001893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Twyd/pseuds/Twyd
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Not that that's anything new. You're always watching me."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Adrenalin

Shizuo’s in a bar with Tom when he sees Izaya. Fleabag, shit-eating grin Izaya, sitting in a little booth in the corner with a man Shizuo doesn’t recognise. He flashes Shizuo a sickly sweet smile.

Tom tells him to leave it. It’s Friday night, they’re here to relax, not to get barred from yet another place.

Shizuo moodily takes a seat. Tom has a point, but the thing in his gut telling him to _kill_ has a point, too. Izaya is right in the corner of his eye.

He watches Izaya over Tom’s shoulder, while the other man tells him stories about his old clients, people Shizuo has never met. He can’t tell much from the back of Izaya’s friend and/or client. It is hard to imagine Izaya with friends. He's blonde, tall, possibly foreign. Having lost interest in Shizuo when he relented and sat down, all of Izaya’s attention is on this man. His head is lowered, eyes unwavering. He doesn’t smirk as much as he normally does. They look as though they might be conspiring. Shizuo hopes they are. He’ll take any excuse to ram the flea’s brains through the wall behind him. Even if it meant they couldn’t have another drink here. If only the music wasn’t so loud, and he could hear what they were saying. Well. The music and Tom.

“And then, after the spaceship landed, the chickens went into outer space, and the dinosaurs came back.”

“Huh?” Shizuo blinks and shifts his eyes back to Tom.

His friend rolls his eyes. “Have you listened to anything I’ve been saying for the past hour? Quit staring at Izaya. He’s not going to do anything here.”

“I wasn’t staring,” he mutters, ducking his head.

“Why are you so obsessed with him?”

“Shut up,” he hisses, head snapping back up to see if Izaya heard, but the informant’s eyes don’t meet his. He and his friend have their heads close together. They look so intent, Shizuo could come up behind him, and have to break his glass over Izaya’s head before he’d notice he was there.

Tom gives up and sits back in exasperation.

“Sorry,” Shizuo tells him. “Buthe is up to something. Somethings' going on.”

“He’s always up to something.” Tom rolls his eyes again. “He’s an informant, it goes with the territory. But you can’t start on a guy for having a drink in a bar with his friend.”

“Whatever,” Shizuo mutters. They’d been banned from several bars for this very reason. He’d just have to kill the flea when he leaves.

The flea sits back then and laughs, revealing his perfect white teeth, like he’s heard Shizuo’s thoughts. But he hasn’t taken his eyes off his friend. There’s something off about the laughter, like it’s more put-on than usual, or like he’s feeling his drink.

His client leans in, and Izaya’s grin fades just a touch. Then he leans all the way in, and he is kissing Izaya, hands framing his face and his hair. Izaya is letting him, as if frozen in shock.

“What?” Tom sees the look on Shizuo’s face and turns. “ _Oh_.”

Izaya has begun to kiss back.

Tom stares for a moment, then turns back and shrugs. “Well, there you go. He’s just on a date. Huh. Who knew.”

Shizuo keeps staring.

“Shizuo?”

The flea’s hands come up to the other man’s, and he manages to extract himself. They stare at each other for a moment, when Izaya darts wide, almost panicked eyes to Shizuo.

“Shit, he’s looking. Quick, talk to me.”

“What is this, grade school? ‘Say something cool, _so and so’s_ going past?’”.

“For fuck’s sake, Tom.”

“I’ve been talking to you all night!”

Shizuo dares another glance at the informant, but the other man has sat back, out of reach, in his seat. He tilts his head and smiles, a patronising one, but Shizuo knows him well enough to know he’s not pleased. He’s pissed. He’s looking at the other man with eyes that could frost glass.

The other man sits back in his own seat and says something. Izaya looks away, looking uncharacteristically thrown. Then he’s digging in his wallet and standing, throws a few bills on the table with his mouth twisted in contempt.

He spares Shizuo no more than a withering glance on his way out, not bothering with a parting shot, even though Shizuo knew he knew he’d seen everything.

Shizuo’s still in shock. He just sits there.

Until the other man comes raging past their table, and just like that his own fury is back.

“Shizuo,” Tom warns, as Shizuo throws himself after them.

He gets out in time to see the other man approach the flea, who’s standing a little distance away typing on his phone, probably arranging a ride or, more likely, the other man’s death. Izaya sees the other man, but he doesn’t react in time. His phone goes flying as the other man gets an arm round his neck, dragging him back and into the alleyway behind the bar.

Shizuo looks at the fallen phone with unease. He has never seen Izaya drop anything before, let alone miss an approaching attack. Even drunk, he could probably dance tightropes.

Shizuo is in this dilemma when the flea’s voice comes, although he barely recognises it.

“ _I said don’t touch me_.”

Then there’s a sound like dog being skinned, and a man shaped blur flying through the air. Shizuo follows it to where it lands near Tom, who’s standing staring and looking as shocked as Shizuo feels. They stare at the man like he'd flown there by himself.

“Did you enjoy the show?”

Shizuo knifes back round to find the flea, slightly obscured in shadow, one hand on the wall for support. He is shaking. He is dripping sarcasm and blood. Shizuo can tell he’s pissed, from the way he lets no expression enters his face.

“Thank you for coming running, Shizu-chan, but I can look after myself.”

“You’re head’s bleeding,” Tom tells him, quickly.

“Thank you,” he snaps back, which would have been more effective if he wasn’t cringing with pain.

Shizuo still hasn’t moved. “Are you- “

“ _Yes_ ,” he snaps, suddenly furious. He looks like a dog that’s been bit. He backs away from them and starts running.

It takes a moment for Shizuo’s reflexes to kick in, and then he’s hurtling after him. Izaya has disappeared by the time Shizuo gets round the corner. He throws himself round more corners, looking, even grabbing bystanders with, “Izaya Orihara – do you know him? Have you seen him?” And nobody has. It’s an intricate net of streets where they are.

Even injured, even vulnerable, Izaya can outrun him. Shizuo lets out a roar as the chase that’s been building in him all night gets away.

* * *

 He finds Tom still hovering over the man, who has now begun to groan, as if unsure whether to call the police or an ambulance.

“If he’s groaning, he’s probably gonna be fine,” Shizuo offers.

“Yeah.” Tom appears to read his mind. “You’re probably right. Might call the cops though, just in case.”

The man’s eyes widen and he sits up, with some difficulty. “No, no, I’m fine. See?” He’s bleeding in several places, but he can stand. He stumbles off without looking back at them.

Tom shakes his head. “Never a dull moment where Izaya’s concerned, right?”

Something catches Shizuo’s eye before he can answer. The flea has left his phone.

* * *

 “Did he seem drunk to you?”

After pocketing the phone, Shizuo and Tom are back in the bar, and the latter is getting sick of the subject.

Shizuo is oblivious. “It’s been an hour already. He never forgets things. He never loses things.”

“I don’t know,” Tom says, for the third time. “Maybe it’s new and it’s gone nothing on it. Maybe he doesn’t care. He’s probably got a drawer full of them.”

Shizuo growls in annoyance. He takes out the phone again, intact from its fall, infuriatingly blank and demanding a passcode. Who does he know who’s good with technology?

Izaya.

That was it, really. Perhaps his brother might know someone. But that would take time, and Izaya’s probably waiting for him outside, probably licked his wounds and wants to pick up where they left off.

“What do you think happened?” Shizuo wonders out loud. “I’ve seen Izaya defend himself more times than I’ve seen him eat, but I’ve never seen him _throw_ a guy.”

Tom is only half-listening. “Has to be prepared for anything in his line of work, I guess.”

“His line of work has him mostly in shadows, not in the thick of it. And he was rubbing his shoulder, like throwing a guy hurt.”

“Adrenalin,” Tom offers. “Maybe you should ask him when he calls.”

But Izaya doesn’t call.

He’s not outside, he’s not in the streets on the walk home, and he’s not outside Shizuo’s apartment. Shizuo checks the phone, but the battery’s not dead.

It doesn’t make a sound all night.

* * *

 Enough days pass for Shizuo to consider calling his brother after all, or just giving up and just throwing the thing away, when he gets a knock on the door. He knows before he even moves that it’s the flea. He can feel it in the back of his neck.

Sure enough, the flea is leaning back on the opposite wall with his weight on one foot, hands in his pockets, smirking at him. He looks the same as ever.

“You have something of mine, Shizu-chan.”

“How do you know?”

“I have tracking systems in all my phones.” He takes a different phone out of his pocket and does something on it, and a resulting bleep comes from the apartment. Izaya’s grin widens.

“Why should I give it to you? You wouldn’t do the same for me.”

“Sure, I would.” He puts the phone back in his pocket and his foot back on the wall. “I’d just tease you a little first. But you’re no good at teasing. Just smashing things.”

Shizuo’s fists curl, but Izaya goes on,

“Oh, and I’d naturally go through all your photos and wreak havoc with your contacts and life in general, but you haven’t figured out how to do that, have you?”

Shizuo slams the door in his face.

He’s just retrieving the phone from the coffee table when he pauses, removes the battery. The phone feels the same, looks the same, without it. He’s just pocketed it when Izaya opens the door.

“ _Get out_!”

“I’m not in!” He’s not, he’s just grinning over the threshold. “What are you afraid of, that I’ll steal your plants?”

“Do you want your phone back or not?”

“Yes! I want it back so badly, I’ll waltz over there myself and get it so you don’t have to.”

“Don’t you dare,” he growls. He takes it to Izaya and hands it to him, who stays grinning in his door. Izaya pockets the phone without looking at it. And he’s supposed to be the smart one. “Thank you,” he says, with slightly less sarcasm than usual.

He stops the door with his foot when Shizuo tries to close it.

“You were too slow, you know.”

Shizuo frowns.

“If I’d been some kid, some helpless victim, anything could have happened. What if he had a knife?”

“ _You_ had a knife,” Shizuo snaps.

“But if I hadn’t,” he persists. “You hesitated.”

“Of course I hesitated. It’s you. And it’s not my fault you get yourself in these situations.”

“I never said it was. You hesitated but, you came nevertheless, and I appreciate the concern. Even if it was just so you could finish me off yourself.” He takes his foot off the door.

“I was not concerned about you,” Shizuo yells, a little too late, at Izaya’s departing back.

“No?” Izaya drawls over his shoulder. “Just as I was starting to think you weren’t a monster after all.”

“Do you want to die?”

Izaya spins round and starts clapping. “Bravo, Shizu-chan, original as always. Ten points.”

He’s on the fire escape by the time Shizuo gets to the end of the corridor, and though it’s the chase he’s been waiting for, something stops him. It’s not Izaya he’s furious with, but himself.

He slams the door behind him.

* * *

 Izaya calls the next day.

Why do they even have each other’s numbers? Shizuo does not believe in the practice of keeping your enemies closer.

“Do you have my knife?”

“What?” This he did not expect.

“You know, my knife. You should know it as well as you know my face by now. I lost it that night.”

“I don’t have your stupid knife. It’s probably still buried in that guy."

Izaya tuts in annoyance. “But you have my battery, yes?”

“I didn’t know you ran on batteries.”

“Oh, it has a sense of humour.”

“You didn’t ask for the battery, you asked for the phone.”

Izaya laughs with delight. “Maybe you do know how to tease after all, Shizu-chan. Well done. And I should have known. Naturally the only technical thing you’re capable of is taking something apart.”

Shizuo growls, but Izaya chirps over him.

“I’ll be right over.”

* * *

 “Well, this is interesting,” he says brightly, leaning in Shizuo’s doorframe without even knocking. “I’m throwing people, and you have a sense of humour. At last, we’re doing each other good!”

“How did you throw that guy?” His instinct to throw him out is averted just like that. Curiosity has got the better of him. The guy was almost the size of Shizuo.

“No idea,” Izaya shrugs, and seems to be being honest for once in his life. “Hurt like hell, though. I don’t know how you don’t do your shoulders in. You’ll have to give me some tips.”

“Shut up.”

“And I know you were watching all along, by the way.”

“I’m warning you, flea.”

“Not that it’s anything new. You’re always watching me.”

Shizuo slams the door.

“ _Oww_!”

Shizuo’s insides go cold. Did the idiot still have his fingers on the hinge? He rips the door open to find Izaya doubled up and holding his hand.

Shizuo grabs him, and he starts howling with laughter. He jumps out of the way as Shizuo pulls back his fist, just as another apartment door opens.

“What the hell is all the noise?”

Izaya stops laughing. He smirks when Shizuo drops his fist.

“Sorry,” Shizuo mutters to the neighbour. He grabs Izaya by the wrist, who lets him, and tugs him inside, taking care not to slam the door.

“My, you are nicer to your neighbours than you are to me.”

Izaya strolls into the living room with his hands in his pockets, turns round to lean on the back of the sofa.

Shizuo hands him the battery from his pocket. He’s not in the mood for this.

“You haven’t done anything else, have you? I don’t have time to go back and forth, I’m a busy man. I’d send my secretary, but she’s too scared of you. Can you imagine?”

Shizuo feels a flicker of something that’s not anger, even though he knows the flea is probably lying.

“You deserved it.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He takes the phone from his pocket and replaces the battery, fiddles with it. Then he pockets it and looks as Shizuo without getting up from the couch. “Anyway, what are you doing home, Shizu-chan? It’s Saturday night!” He throws out his arms, as if it’s Shizuo’s birthday and a new millennium all at once. “Does Tom only take you on dates on Fridays?”

“You were the one who was on a date,” Shizuo snaps.

“No I wasn’t,” he answers calmly, not rising to it. “I don’t have the time for that. You do, though.”

“How do you know?”

“I know everything.”

Shizuo’s mouth curls. “Get out.”

Izaya grins back at him. “What do you suppose the neightbour thought? That we were having a domestic?”

“I will break your neck right here. I don’t care about the neighbours.”

He does, though. It’s not the first time someone’s complained about noise. He’s on his last warning.

Izaya seems to sense it. His eyes gleam. He slouches more comfortably against the back of the couch and looks around him.

"That's a nice peace lily. I don't think it works for you, though."

“What do you want?” Shizuo hisses. “You got your battery back.”

“What do _you_ want, Shizu-chan?” he shoots back. “You wanted to get me here twice.”

“I wanted to piss you off, the way you always piss me off.”

“And what did you think I would do?”

Shizuo grabs his wrist and attempts to manhandle him out the door.

Izaya drags his feet, making it as difficult as possible.

“Do you want to go out the window instead?”

Izaya splutters with laughter. “Out the window? You were worried about hurting my fingers a minute ago, Shizu-chan. I'm hardly going to worry about you picking me up and throwing me out windows.”

“I’ll fucking _break_ your fingers if you don’t leave.”

He gets Izaya to the door, gets it open. Izaya shuts it by reversing their positions, shoving Shizuo up against the door. He’s still laughing.

“Flea, I swear to God- “

He’s cut off as Izaya kisses him, leaning into him, hands locking behind his neck, a leg dipping between his own. And Shizuo is letting him because he gets it now, he gets what’s been happening, a little voice in his head is flashing _that’s why that’s why that’s why._

Izaya finally pulls back for air. “Sorry,” he mumbles into Shizuo’s throat. “Couldn’t not. Too funny.” He doesn't take his hands away.

Shizuo stares down at his head. If he had a lamp nearby, he’d brain him. But he doesn’t. That’s really why he’s still standing there, with the flea all over him. Because there are no heavy objects to hand.

Izaya’s hands fall to Shizuo’s belt.

“Do you think the neighbours would mind terribly if we had noisy sex?”


End file.
